Hail To Purple
by RK Ryune
Summary: Giuseppe Ienzo is a new student at Northwestern University. When he's invited to participate in a graduate-level experiment, he finds himself caught up in events that could change the world. The Pre-KH events of Hollow Bastion, set in our world.
1. Northwestern

"Giuseppe, you'll come home and visit, yes?" He was, after all, her oldest son, and the only one that had been born before she married Carlo. As such, she loved her little black-haired, blue-eyed son – the only memento she had of the man she'd come to America to marry – more than he would ever know.

"Mama, I promise I'll visit. And don't worry, you have Bianchi and Giotto to help with the restaurant." Yes, Giuseppe's father may have died before he was born, and Giuseppe may have grown up with Carlo Ienzo as the father-figure in his life (and Carlo's heart was large enough to accept Giuseppe as his own), but Giuseppe Ienzo was in every respect his father's son, right down to the quiet, intelligent demeanor and bibliophilic tendencies. As such, the boxes he had brought with him to college were full of books that she doubted he'd need – and he was definitely going to buy more, since he would need books for class and was likely to just buy more for his own pleasure.

Yes, Maria Ienzo knew her son, and she was so proud of him this day that she felt she would burst. In her family, he would be the first to attend university – to top it off, he was attending one of the most prestigious colleges in America.

There was a soft rap on the door and Carlo came in, carrying a folded purple sweatshirt. "I bought you a t-shirt, Giuseppe," he said with a smile, his olive skin creasing around his mouth, from years of smiling. Giuseppe thanked his step-father and took the purple sweatshirt from him, unfolding it to reveal the white letters.

Carlo turned to the blond boy that was Giuseppe's roommate. "You will take good care of my boy, yes?" he said in thickly accented English.

"Oh, no worries, Mr. Ienzo, me 'n Giuseppe'll get along fine. You can count on me." Giuseppe rolled his eyes – he loved his parents, but they were so… overbearing sometimes.

There were more hugs and kisses, and finally, around 4 in the afternoon, the mother and father left to go tend to their restaurant in nearby Schaumburg, Illinois.

Once they had closed the door behind them, Giuseppe sighed and crawled onto his bottom bunk, exasperated. He knew that Northwestern University was a prominent school, and he knew how proud his family was of him, but honestly, he was quite glad to be here instead of in his over-crowded home with over-involved parents and the overwhelming stress of school, clubs and restaurant work on the side. He knew one thing – he'd never be a waiter in an Italian restaurant again.

"So, uh, Giuseppe, was it?" his roommate asked, sticking his head over the railing of the upper bunk. "Your family sure was nice."

"Ugh, please don't call me that. You've got the pronunciation right, but so many people screw up my first name that it's just safer to go by Ienzo. Call me that."

"Oh, right, sure."

"What should I call you? Troy?"

"Ugh, no, please don't," said the roommate, Troy Myde. "Ever since _High School Musical_ came out, everyone's teased me about my first name. It doesn't help that girls think I _look_ like Zac Efron, or that I played basketball in high school." He grinned sheepishly. " I'd like to keep as many people as possible from making that connection – Myde's better."

"Myde it is, then." There was a long pause as the two new roommates adjusted to each other's presence. They had corresponded briefly online to determine who was bringing what – radios, TVs, refrigerators, that sort of things - but they hadn't really spoken much. It probably didn't help that Ienzo wasn't much for socialization at all. He preferred books to people.

"So, um, it's almost dinner time… wanna go meet some of the other guys in the hall, and then go get some food downstairs?"

Allison Hall was one of the biggest dorms on campus, and one of the primary freshman residences. There had been a massive line at the start of the day, as it was officially the day when all freshmen were supposed to move in. And there were many humanities and music majors in the building, as Allison Hall was located on the south end of campus – close to the humanities and music buildings. Myde himself was majoring in voice at the School of Music, while Ienzo planned on being an English Major.

The two new students ventured into the hall and were immediately accosted by a tall, lanky redhead hanging out of the doorway of a nearby room. "New students, hey. Welcome to Northwestern." He grinned, a little too widely, which made the two freshmen a little nervous. "Hey, Li, come meet our neighbors," he called back into the room, and a Chinese boy with longish hair stuck his head out of the room. "Hello," he said curtly, and vanished back into the room.

"Aw, don't mind him. He's a lot nicer once he doesn't think he's superior to you." The redhead stretched. "So, what're your names? I'm Alexander Irons, junior, Art History major. Call me Alex and I'll break you in half."

"Um, I'm Troy Myde, but Myde is fine, and this is Ienzo. School of Music and English." Ienzo nodded an affirmation, then turned to Alexander Irons.

"So if we can't call you Alex, what should we call you? Alexander? Irons?" he asked, leaning back and assessing this lanky junior before him.

"Most people call me Ale," he said, pronouncing it with two syllables. "There were two guys named Alex in Mock Trial when I was in high school – the other Alex was a jerk, so I dropped the X from my name so I wouldn't have to be associated with that douche."

"Ale?" said Myde slowly, trying it out. "Okay… hey, what about your roommate? Li, right?"

Li reappeared at the doorway. "Liu Ma Li – also a junior, biology major," he said before ghosting back into the room.

"Aw, don't mind Li-li, he's just a sourpuss." Ale leaned in conspiratorially. "If you ask me, I bet he's planning to take over the school."

"I am not," Li said, again appearing from the insides of their room. "And what did I say about calling me Li-li?"

"Right, right, I know. You're just a lot of fun to rile, you know that, right? Loosening up wouldn't kill you. Neither would a girlfriend – god only knows that you spend half your time talking to your plants like they're your significant other."

"I'll get a girlfriend when the right girl comes along – until then, Genevieve is much more interesting than they are. "

"Who's Genevieve?" asked Myde, shooting a puzzled look at Ienzo, who was again leaning backward and assessing the two upperclassmen before him. They certainly were interesting.

"Genevieve is his Venus Fly Trap. Hey, Li, how come you and Arlene haven't hooked up? You two are pretty tight already."

"Arlene has been in France all summer. In addition, we're just friends, Ale. Now butt out, you prying bastard."

"Well, I sure got told," Ale said, turning around and grinning at Myde and Ienzo. "You guys wanna get dinner? They should be open about now," he said, checking his watch. "Allison doesn't have the best food in the world – you'll wanna go to Hinman for that, but it's convenient, it's close, and it's food."

Of course, when they arrived downstairs and had retrieved food and found a table, Ienzo gave Ale's plate a befuddled look. "Where on earth does all that food go?" he asked, dumbfounded. The mountain of food on Ale's tray definitely belied his rail-thin frame. Ale, in kind, shrugged benignly and set into his meatloaf with gusto.

"You seem to know your way around pretty well, Ale," said Ienzo, taking a bite of salad.

"I make it my business to," said Ale in response. "Better to be informed than ignorant – no one can cause you trouble that way."

"Makes sense," said Myde, polishing off his sandwich and getting up get some milk.

"You strike me as an extremely manipulative person," Ienzo said bluntly.

"Ouch, cuts right to the quick, doesn't he?" Ale pouted in mock hurt. "What about you, Ienzo? Emo Italian kid or fellow manipulative bastard under that curtain of hair?"

"I refuse to be associated with those whiny, selfish brats," Ienzo retorted.

"Well, anyone with eyes could tell that you've been sizing up everyone that you come across – what, are you planning something?"

"No, simply becoming informed," he said with a wry grin. "After all, no one can cause me trouble that way."

Ale smiled into the forkful of pasta he was holding. "Sounds like we'll get along famously, then."

New Student Week went as all New Student Weeks go – freshman getting their IDs, learning the ropes, and registering for classes. So when the first day of class rolled around, Ienzo found himself in a rather interesting Freshman Seminar – "The Physics of Good and Evil."

It wasn't a class he would have taken willingly, had it not been a requirement for all students in the Weinburg College of Arts and Sciences. And out of the options for Freshman Seminars, it sounded most interesting. There were two professors, an older man with bright blond hair, and a man in his 40s with a long scar up one side of his face and long graying hair in a ponytail.

They couldn't have been any more different. "Good morning, class," said the first man in a cultured British accent. "I am Phineas Ansem, and I am a professor in the Philosophy department."

"And I'm Braig Kracowicz – it's probably easier on you if you call me Braig, seeing as my last name gives kids seizures trying to say correctly." Braig had a laid-back manner of speech, almost as if he was an aging surfer. "Anyway, I'm in the physics department. I mostly teach the upper-level stuff, though."

"Yes, and most of you have already met your peer adviser, Edwin." Professor Ansem continued.

"Dulor, Professor Ansem," corrected the senior economics major. He too was British, and many of the freshman students couldn't help but snicker at the similarities between Ansem and Dulor – for it was true, Dulor did strongly resemble a younger Ansem.

"Right, gotcha. Well, guess we should go over the roster, make sure no one's ditching, or in the wrong room," Braig said, picking up the attendance sheet. He ran through the class list, noting each of the 20 freshman, and writing their preferred means of address next to their names. And so, class commenced.

"We would like to begin with discussing your reasons for taking this class," said Ansem slowly, scanning the blank faces. "You there, Ienzo, was it?"

Ienzo pointed to himself unsurely, then cleared his throat. "I was curious to see how something tangible and measurable applied to something indefinite – after all, good and evil is different from person to person, varying on moral standards. Physics doesn't change, on the other hand. If I swing my fist in a left-ward direction, at a certain velocity and direction, it will definitely collide with James's face," he said, with a nod to the brown-haired person on his left. "However, the ethical ramifications of such an action will always vary, depending on reason, method and circumstances." Ienzo folded his hands quietly and sat back, to indicate that the ball was again in the professors' court.

"And that's exactly what we're gonna go after this quarter," said Braig, nodding with satisfaction at Ienzo's answer. "We're gonna investigate the applications of classic thought on good and evil, light and darkness, so on, and apply it to the physical world, to see if there is or isn't a basic moral standard."

"And that is exactly what we shall discuss on Thursday," said Ansem, noting the time. "Please purchase your course packets as indicated on the syllabus, and read the first article in them."

They all got up and exited, but as Ienzo made to leave the room, Braig held up his hand. "Wait a sec, Ienzo. Got a question for you."

Ienzo paused, waiting for him to continue. Ansem cleared his throat. "I have begun an experiment. Braig is working with me, as are various other faculty members and graduate students. Your response today indicates that you find the subject of definable moral standards intriguing. How would you like to be a research assistant for this experiment?"

"Me?" Ienzo said quietly, pointing at himself.

"No, the other obviously Italian kid named Ienzo," Braig said dryly. "What do you say? You'd be paid, of course. Maybe even get extra credit – though it'd be a little unfair to offer it to you but not the other kids."

"There is also a high risk involved," said Ansem with a note of concern.

"I'll do it," said Ienzo, firmly. "I'd be stupid to pass up an opportunity like that."

"Good!" said Braig, beaming. "We'll see you in Tech N-31 this afternoon at 3. It's in the basement. Think you can find it?"

"I'll be there, no need to worry about me," Ienzo said, with more confidence. "Should I bring anything?"

"Only your curiosity and intelligence," said Ansem. "We shall see you there"


	2. Room NG31

Ienzo's next class happened to be in Tech Auditorium, so he made the long trek from Harris Hall on the southern end of campus to the northern end. It wasn't too hard finding the massive building – said to be third largest building in the world that was under five stories. And even with a map in hand, Ienzo felt a small pang of trepidation at finding his way through the maze-like building.

He would have some stern words to say to the juniors across the hall, the bastards. They'd told him and Myde horror stories about Tech the night before – about the ghostly Chinese restaurant that only appeared between 11 pm and 3 am, or about the haunted basement, full of Biochem majors that had studied themselves to death. Ienzo knew that his class was practically right in the front doors of Tech, but he was thinking in apprehension of his meeting in the basement with Professor Ansem and his associates.

But that wasn't until 3. Right now, he had Organic Chemistry.

Orgo, as it was called by students, was rumored to be the hardest class at Northwestern University. Ienzo, by virtue of his intelligence and stellar scores on the AP Chemistry and Biology exams, had tested out of the required classes, and was allowed to take the sophomore-level class as a freshman. To be sure, there were other freshman in the class, but they were scattered. He opened the heavy doors and slid into one of the seats toward the middle of the room, and waited for class to begin.

After a few moments of waiting, a haggard middle-aged man with unkempt ash-brown hair strode onto the auditorium stage with an air of authority and began setting up a laptop on the podium, hooking up the necessary cables for power points and the overhead on which he could project formulae. Once he was sure everything was in order, he cleared his throat, pushed the wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, and addressed the class.

"Good afternoon, everyone," he said, his voice high and somewhat nasal, but intelligent. "My name is Even Delacroix, and I'm supposed to teach all of you Organic Chemistry. You will take note on the syllabus that my name is spelled 'E-v-e-n,' but no acknowledgement will be given you if you attempt to call me 'eeven'. Either 'ay-ven' or "Professor Delacroix" is fine, but calling me professor is greatly preferred."

A student in the front row raised his hand. "Questions will be answered at the end of class," Even Delacroix snapped, shooting a terse glare at the poor boy. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to direct your attention to my left you'll see three people seated there. These are your TAs – Dilan Black, Niko Eleaeus, and Xehanort Ansem. You would have already signed up for sections and labs with one of these three, be sure to attend the correct one in order to reduce confusion." Even – Ienzo decided he didn't feel like calling such a pompous man 'Professor' – handed some stacks of paper to the three men, who then began to pass the sheets out to the students.

"Dilan, Niko and Xehanort are passing out your syllabi, be sure to read it thoroughly, as textbook, course packet, and lab time information is outlined. There is also a supply list attached, and it is imperative you have all supplies purchased before next Thursday. Your TA will check, so don't try to dodge the deadline."

Ienzo received his syllabus from the imposing black-haired man that had been named as Dilan, and immediately turned to the page detailing what he'd need to purchase. He frowned slightly at the long list of assumedly expensive materials he'd need, and slid the papers into his notebook, turning to a clean sheet of lined paper, as Even had already launched into a detailed lecture on the first chapter of the textbook.

Organic Chemistry was an hour and a half long, so by the time the class let out, it was 2:30, and Ienzo only had an half-an-hour to find this mysterious room NG-31. His map told him that the G indicated the room was on the floor below him, but he hadn't the vaguest idea where the N-wing was. The map had a very unspecific and arbitrary area in the middle of the spider-like building labeled as N, but beyond that he had zero clue as to the location.

He stood to pack his bags, and was accosted by one of the other TAs, the one with the weird name. Xehanort? He was rather odd, Ienzo noted, since white hair was fairly uncommon in young men. Even so, Xehanort waylaid him on his way out of the room, asking, "Are you the student that my father wanted to participate in the research?"

Father? Well, that would explain why his last name was Ansem. "I am," Ienzo replied calmly, unfazed by the fact that Xehanort was considerably taller than him. "I'm guessing then, since Professor Ansem is your father, you're involved as well?"

Xehanort nodded. "Yes, Father, asked me to participate. Walk with me, it will be easier to find to find the room if I am with you."

Well that solved that problem. Xehanort led Ienzo out of the large auditorium and down the nearby staircase, to the ground floor. Ienzo paid careful attention to the route they took, as to find his way again, if need be. They turned a corner here, and there, until they reached an unlabeled door. "This is NG-31?" Ienzo asked, noting the lack of any sign to indicate thus.

"Indeed," Xehanort said, taking out a key and unlocking the door. "This research is a little… unorthodox."

"Oh?" Ienzo knew that he should have felt concerned at the potential illegality of what he was getting into – but he was intrigued instead. Something about the mystery of the work, and the promising subject matter was keeping him involved. Ienzo filed that thought away for later, and observed as Xehanort opened the doors.

"Aren't you in my Organic Chemistry class?" said the high and nasal voice Ienzo had listened to for the last hour and a half. He turned around to find Even glaring at him with distaste.

"Ienzo is the student note-taker my father hired earlier today," Xehanort cut in, fixing Even with a steady gaze. "If you have a problem, you should take it up with him."

"As if ol' Even here would have the balls to go up against the head of the Philosophy department – might lose some of his precious, precious tenure," Braig said, also coming around the corner and meeting the three of them outside the door to the lab, hands jammed into his pockets.

"Oh for heaven's sake, show some decorum, Braig," snapped Even, rolling his eyes in disdain. "You're a professor now, at least set an example for graduates and students."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. No wonder all of your CTECs say you're an utter prick," Braig retorted casually. "Loosen up a bit, and maybe all your kids won't fall asleep during your lectures."

"If I see them sleeping, I'll just make the midterm harder," Even replied with a sinister smirk. He turned to Xehanort. "Didn't Dilan and Eleaus follow you down here?"

Xehanort shrugged and led them inside, flipping on a light switch. "They can find their own way – I had to make sure young Ienzo knew how to reach this laboratory."

Now that he was inside, Ienzo could do little but gape at his surroundings. Not only were there several state-of-the-art instruments, there were charts covered in mysterious symbols, piles upon piles of notes and research, and at the far end of the room, a staircase leading down. "This is just the tip of the iceberg," Braig said, behind Ienzo. "Wait until you see what's downstairs."

Ienzo wanted nothing more than to proceed down the stairs or begin reading notes, but as he made his way over, Xehanort cleared his throat. "We should wait for the others, before we begin. Once we do, we lock the doors."

As if on cue, Professor Ansem entered the room, followed shortly by Dilan and Niko Eleaus. Eleaus retrieved the key from Xehanort and locked the doors, and then Professor Ansem cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen," he began, in the same sonorous voice as before. "Until now, we have only studied the psychological effects of memory, emotion and investigated the concept of morality in human beings. Today, now that all seven have been assembled, we may proceed."

The six other men glanced at each other warily, and Ienzo suddenly realized that none of them knew exactly what sort of research they'd be working on. It was also quite clear that Ansem had withheld this information intentionally. Still, the blond British man pressed on.

"Today, at the behest of Xehanort, my adoptive son, we begin researching that arbitrary entity known as the heart. I am not referring to the biological organ, but the thoughts, feelings, emotions and other such metaphysical notions that have been referred to, since time began, as the heart. What, perhaps, does it mean to have a dark heart? Is morality something that can be physically defined? Gentlemen, today we leave our inhibitions at the door and press forward – in the name of science."

Ienzo glanced at the older men before him, all of them frowning slightly. "If I may be so forward, Ansem," Even said hesitatingly, "for what purpose did you select the six of us?"

"An excellent question, my friend," Ansem continued. "I selected you for your superior mind and passion for research, as well as your expertise in biology and chemistry, for example. Or Braig, a physics professor, for his understanding of mathematics and ability to think outside the box, as the saying goes. Dilan and Eleaus were chosen because of their intelligence – and for their degrees in sociology and psychology, respectively. Such elements are necessary for research on the heart. Xehanort is here because he will be the subject of our study – memories are, after all, an important part of the heart."

Well, that was a surprise. Xehanort had amnesia? However, Ansem was not finished.

"And Ienzo," Ansem said, turning to the young man. "Ienzo is here, because not only could his intelligence surpass ours with study, his natural curiosity and diligence is valuable as a note-taker. Yes, Ienzo, I was on the selection staff, and when I read your application, I was convinced that you were the only underclassman worthy enough of participating in this research."

"Now," Ansem said, clapping his hands together and heading toward the stairs. "Shall we begin prying open the mysteries of the heart, gentlemen?"

And then Ansem turned and descended the stairs, beckoning for the six others to follow him.


End file.
